


Unfortunately Redeemed

by enygmashow



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Reformed Riddler
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 11:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12911091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enygmashow/pseuds/enygmashow
Summary: Edward Nygma is not the Batman. He was the Riddler, and he is working for Batman, but no rogue would hear his name and flinch. No criminal would hold their breath as a shadow looms over them, only to see that it’s Edward Nygma. They fear Batman, and in this line of work, it’s better that way.





	Unfortunately Redeemed

The door to the warehouse creaks open, moonlight pouring into the dark interior as Edward carefully looks inside. Stepping in, he slowly shuts the door behind him,  the dim beam from a weak flashlight being all that he needed to navigate the interior. Using his cane to carefully maneuver about what exactly was kept inside the "abandoned" warehouse.  
  
Obviously, the place was far from abandoned.  All signs of the interior of the warehouse as well as case information leads back to here. A series of ten kidnappings of various people, little to no obvious similarities besides the fact that they all seem to go to the same college.  Checking every source he had, even the name and history of the college made the answer obvious.  
  
Jonathan Crane has been kidnapping and torturing the staff of the college he used to work at. Whether it is past grudges or something recent that irked him, it's definitely him that's behind it.

Soft clicks from the tip of his cane on the floor echo throughout the warehouse, no other signs of anyone else being present at the location. Could it be that Crane is currently out? Perhaps getting another victim? Or, to Edward’s dismay, did the Dark Knight catch on first? Possibilities slowly bubbled within his mind, all ideas put to an abrupt halt in a matter of seconds.  
  
A cold hand squeezes Edward’s shoulder out of nowhere, breath right against his ear as he speaks softly.  
  
"Hello, Edward. Nice of you to visit."  
  
To the other’s most definite amusement,  Eddie jumps nearly a foot off the ground, instantly shifting to a defensive position.  A soft laugh comes from Jonathan, and anyone can tell behind his mask he has some form of a taunting grin on his face.  He doesn't even need to do that, he only does that for the effect. The amount of times he’s simply silently snuck up on other Rogues (new, old, or former) just for spooks is uncanny for someone his age. Yet predictable as always.  
  
Frowning with a bit of a disappointed huff, Edward listens as Jon speaks again.  
  
"To what do I owe the pleasure?"  
  
"I'm sure you're highly aware of my work, Crane. This friendly attitude of yours won't change anything."  
  
Jonathan looms over him, tilting his head in question.  Expressions were extremely hard to pick up from Crane with that (godawful) mask of his, but thankfully from the time spent as his cellmate, Edward can manage just fine.  
  
However, something is off. Neither of them move for a good minute, eventually one of them looking towards the large windows in the front of the warehouse. Eddie catches on, frowning.  
  
"Do I need to repeat myself, Crane? It's _my_ work. Not his. The Bat isn't on your back. _Yet._ "  
  
The other scoffs, attention shifting as he looks back down at Edward. "Was that a threat?"  
  
"No." Pause. "Okay, maybe. But that's just my way of saying he will be. You know how he acts when we are in Arkham. Always keeping an eye out."  
  
"Tell me about it." Jon huffs, still seeming relaxed as ever. "However, are you implying that _you're_ going to be the one taking _me_ to Arkham?"  
  
Rolling his eyes, Edward scoffs. “Oh no, I’m being paid to chat with you and catch up on roguely gossip. What else would I, a Private Investigator, be here to do for money?”

Jonathan scoffs quietly.

“Don’t give me that look, Crane. I know exactly what's going on. And I only know how due to the incompetence of the GCPD to look towards the obvious.”

“Are you implying you’ve been hired to bring me in? You aren't even a detective. I doubt a hired snoop is legally able to bring me to Arkham.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Edward pauses to consider this. Is he legally allowed to bring Jonathan to Arkham? He could be considered his own shade of vigilante. Batman isn't legally allowed to do what he does. That doesn't stop him. It shouldn't stop Edward, either.

“I have wiggle room, Jonathan. Don't assume I won't take risks.”

This earns another amused scoff from the Scarecrow, Edward’s grip on his cane tightening as the other leans in to a point where the closeness is nearly uncomfortable.

“And what exactly are you investigating that involves me, _Detective?_ ” Oh, he’s good. “If you're here on a false lead, I’d like to go back to my work.”

It’s a test. Of course. Raising a brow, Edward begins to count on his fingers.

“April 15th. Doctor James Reynolds. Last seen in his office at Gotham University. Found seven days later in his office, completely braindead.”

Jonathan tilts his head, Edward continuing.

“April 27th. Professor Madison Flynn. Last seen entering her apartment on 5th and Waterson. Five days later she was found nearly brain dead in her kitchen, burning her hand with coffee.”

“May 10th. Keith Harrison. Janitor at Gotham University. Last seen cleaning the chemical lab at the science wing. Found two days later in a locker, drooling and mentally gone.”

“Where _I_ come in is when Keith Harrison was missing. His fiancee hired me to find him. Thus, the far quicker find. I am fairly proficient at my work, after all.” He brags, tilting his head up as if to challenge Crane to refute the point made.

Of course, Jonathan ignores it, seemingly expressionless as he listens. Silence lingers a second longer than it should have, Edward’s confidence draining from his expression as he glances to the side. Why isn't he replying? Why is he so--

“I’m still waiting for the part where I come in.”

Oh. “Oh.”

Clearing his throat, he continues, ignoring his lack of tying it all together sooner.

“All three were your co-workers, close co-workers in the science department of Gotham U. And of course, poor Keith Harrison was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. You needed chemicals from the school, didn't you? Wanted to work closer to where you would strike?”

Jonathan's lack of response only proved his point as Edward grinned, eyes narrowed.

“You're a vengeful man, Crane. We both are, sure, but you are far more petty than myself.” He chides, pulling out a small newspaper clipping. “And certainly, you would have been filled with such a burning spite hotter than your morning coffee as you sat down to read the Gazette, say, a week before the first missing person case?”

The Scarecrow remains still, absorbing the information with such a stoic look. Even behind the mask, Edward could tell. He’s right, he just needs to sell it to Jonathan to know that he's absolutely right.

“Who knew your prior associates would publicly speak so ill about yourself? Treat you like nothing? You’d have to prove to them that you are something. You can't resist the cold, sweet taste revenge as you ruined their minds and left them with such a look of _terror_ in their eyes...”  
  
Closing the folder, Edward puts it back in his jacket and grins, laughing softly. "Honestly, the few pieces of evidence that you left attempting to frame someone else, while quite impressive,  was also far too sloppy. I'm disappointed, I expected a case in which you were the culprit to give me more work! Alas, it was nothing more than a small brain teaser. Try to give me a challenge next time, would you?"  
  
Opening an eye, Edward awaits some form of reaction from the Scarecrow, grin growing wider with each passing second. A sigh comes from Crane, arms now folded behind his back as he speaks low and cold.  
  
"I'll admit it then, Edward. You've caught me. What's your price now, five hundred? A thousand? I've only heard about what you've charged the others--"  
  
"That's behind me." Edward snaps abruptly,  frowning. "I'm not allowed to take bribes anymore, unfortunately.  The Dark Knight prefers that I avoid having oh so many similar cold cases."  
  
It takes Jonathan a moment to process the change in policy, posture changing instantly.  
  
"So you're taking me in, then?" He begins, pausing as he shakes his head. "How unfortunate."  
  
Instantly, his tone drops as he snaps his fingers. The shadows seem to begin looming over Edward, what feels like dozen of eyes on him as the man takes a few steps back, gripping his cane.  
  
" _Bag him._ "  
  
A sack is thrown over his head, and with one swift yet rough movement, the PI is knocked unconscious.  

 

* * *

 

A warm, distant glow slowly comes into view as Edward slowly opens his eyes, a soft green accompanying the light in the room as he blinks. A hushed conversation is heard between goons and the Scarecrow. Listening in carefully, Eddie keeps his head down, silent.

“...and plus, He’s not here yet. Do you think he’s even around tonight, boss? Maybe he’s sticking his nose elsewhere. I heard that Poison Ivy has been startin’ things down town--”

“ _Enough._ I do not need to know about Pamela’s actions, nor do I want to think about Batman’s where abouts as of tonight. If Miss Isley has him occupied, then we have the upper hand tonight. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

“Good. Now stay quiet, I need all the focus I can get for this last bit. One mistake, and it will be on your head.”

They don't expect him to wake up so soon. Perfect. It gives leeway to come up with a strategy to getting out of this situation. _Think, Edward, think._

 

Question: How does one defeat the Master of Fear?

Answer: With his own fears.

 

Jonathan is far from easy to scare without his own toxin. No sudden outburst or noise can make him jump, barely any sort of horrifying scare in movies can cause him to bat an eye, only one thing seems to startle him.

Batman.

Edward Nygma is not the Batman. He _was_ the Riddler, and he _is_ working for Batman, but no rogue would hear his name and flinch. No criminal would hold their breath as a shadow looms over them, only to see that it’s Edward Nygma. They fear Batman, and in this line of work, it’s better that way.

Little to no respect means assuming the worse and neglecting the best. Reflecting on past… “pastimes” involving various hostages and Batman himself, the flaw was seen within his opinion of the Dark Knight. As of now, that same flaw is in every rogue familiar with Edward, disgust and disappointment taking over their expressions as they sneer, lips curling up in a form of disgust, sometimes rolling their eyes or letting out a small scoff. They overlook skills they depended on him for priorly.

He’s not going to strive towards changing their views. Why have the super criminals of Gotham be reminded that you are a force to be reckoned with? Let them be surprised, the clues were placed out as bright as day. They just didn't bother solving the conundrum left for them.

It’s their fault. Not his.

Taking a moment to figure out what situation he’s in, Edward remains as silent as possible, feeling his restraints. Two sets of handcuffs keep his hands almost completely distant from each other, the lock extremely simple. If it were up to him, one with a password would work just as fine. Carefully, he slips off a glove, reaching for his ring to twist the small emerald. A small lockpick pops up, and silently he gets to work.

_Click._

The soft whispers between goons are heard in the distance. “Man, Scarecrow’s on edge tonight.” One says hushly, another grunting in agreement. “Any idea as to why?”

_Click._

“Maybe it’s Nygma showing up instead of the Bat.” Another chimes in, voice deep.  “Y’know how most a the crime lords prepare everything around Batman showing up? Imagine getting second best and an IOU. Ain’t the same.”

 _Click_.

A loud snort comes from the previous guard, soft chuckling heard as they speak up. “Yeah, what’s the worse Riddler can do? Write a riddle on my forehead and scamper off to a Bat-free computer store?”

The other two goons laugh quietly as Edward rolls his eyes. He wouldn't hide in a computer store. These guys don't know him at all. _Pathetic._

 _Click_.

 

“Are you all done with your chatter?” Jonathan's voice stops the conversation in an instant, shifting of feet heard before he speaks up yet again. “We have work to be done.”

Lifting his head up, Eddie looks towards the light across the room, footsteps growing louder by the second. A tall figure blocks the source of light as Scarecrow and his goon approaches, only a moment taken to remind the guard of the plan. A needle is raised, liquid inside obviously some form of Fear Toxin. Just what Edward needs.

Jonathan's cold voice echos in the room.

“You're awake. Excellent.” He hums, far too content to Edward's liking. Almost singsong, in a way, eerie and looming.

“It's been a while now, hasn't it? Since our talks, or even a session. I’ve arranged another session, don't worry. One last heart to heart with a little…” He flicks the needle, Edward tensing at the sight. “... _Encouragement_. To open up.”

“You’ll be the first to experience this batch as well. Freshly made, untested fear toxin. Theoretical, it should last for hours as your body weakens to its might. It could kill you. It could make you rot from the inside. It could twist your heartstrings and put pressure on them that you wouldn't believe to be true-- struggling to catch your breath before it's all over. Then, you will rest. Eternally at your end, in your own personal hell.”

“Isn’t that nice, Edward? I made you your own corner of hell, all to yourself. Surely that must appease that ego of yours.” Jonathan teases coldly, gripping Edward's face.

The concept sounds far from pleasant, Edward shying away from Jonathan to the best of his ability as he struggled to think of an appropriate response before the Scarecrow cut him off yet again.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve seen one in action, No? I’m highly certain you’ll enjoy experiencing it for yourself.”

Grunting, Eddie frowns, looking unimpressed as he chides himself. “Oh of _course_ , Professor, I’d love to see your toxin in action. Absolutely no harm in that.”

Jonathan laughs softly, holding Edward’s face roughly as he leans in. “Your sass aside, I must address how disappointing you’ve become before you die. It brings shame to all of those on the streets as well as in Arkham to know that you’ve become so pathetic that I had to put you down. Pity.”

The captive gives no response besides a cold glare at Jonathan, having to bite his lip in order to hold his tongue. The grip on his face becomes soft as Jon tilts his chin up.

“I’ll consider your end honorable while pathetic, Detective. Any last words?”

Silence takes over for a moment, then a shift in expression as Edward raises his brows, small smirk on his face. “How do you stop a dog from barking in July?”

Crane pauses, leaning back as his tone drops to a monotone voice filled with disappointment. “How is that relevant in this situation.”

The grin on Edward’s face only grows as his tone grows dark and low, and quite possibly taunting. “You shoot the dog in June! _Moron._ ”

Before one could even understand the meaning of the riddle and reply, Edward strikes, small lockpick ring cracking the lense of Jonathan’s gas mask as he grunts. Stumbling back, he holds his hand over his eye, calling out.

“Don’t just stand there-- _get him!_ ”

At that very moment, on the other side of the warehouse, glass shatters and a shadow looms over all, closing in on those close. Crane looks over towards the source, hearing one of his men call out in fear.

“ _It’s the freakin’ Bat!”_

Crane and his men remain stunned as Eddie scrambles to put his glove back on, grabbing a pair of handcuffs from the chair and searching for his cane. The guard notices, instantly charging towards the Private eye as he dives to grab it. Successfully obtaining the cane, he turns to hook the guard’s leg with the notable question mark, yanking him down and swiftly jumping up. With a quick blow to the head, he knocks the guard out quicker than even he expected, leaving him with the Scarecrow.

Who has taken the chance to arm himself with his notable Scythe. _Fan-fucking-tastic._

With a swift swing, the Scythe’s rusted metal blade tears through his sleeve as Edward bites back a scream, blood already running the new suit. _Great._ Picking up the scythe again, Jonathan twirls it as he remains light on his feet, swinging it again. Just barely, Edward catches it with the hook of his cane, twisting the handle to shock Crane before letting the metal blade get stuck between board on one of the many nearby crates. Taking the chance to evaluate the room, Edward spots the discarded syringe on the floor, untouched by the fight.

A distorted voice hums his name, Jonathan cooing.

“ _Edward…”_

Chills run down his back as the room’s walls seem to be closing in, pressure and tenseness of the situation becoming overt as Edward stares at the syringe, quick thinking aiding him with his plan.

“ _Edwa-a-ard…_ ”

The scythe breaks the floorboards, Scarecrow raising it up as a soft laugh becomes a loud, goosebump causing cackle. Moving as fast as he can, Edward dives for the syringe.

The blade pierces the wall, Jonathan going to pull it out before the needle digs into his neck. Eyes widen behind the mask as he gasps, movement slowing for a moment of disbelief.

“No--!”

Wheezing, Jonathan grips Edward's hand firmly as he begins to shake, losing his grip on reality as his worst fears come to life. A chorus of “no’s” comes from the Scarecrow as his voice remains hushed, slowly raising in volume.

If he screams, Batman will head over in an instant, completely ruining any chances for Edward to look about the warehouse. Quickly prying off the mask, Edward acts quickly, suffocating Jon till he passes out. Taking a moment to catch his own breath, he slowly releases Jonathan, watching as he falls to the floor and twitches.

He’s still in a state of fear. It’s only going to get worse, according to what Crane said earlier. The antidote should be somewhere in the warehouse.

However, the bat is still here.

He’ll take Jonathan back to Arkham instantly, and while Eddie _did_ threaten the exact thing, it wasn't like he’d follow through. Batman would leave him there in a state of complete fear for hours.

Of course, rarely are Jonathan’s doses lethal. He won't die from the toxin itself, but the mental scar will linger for ages. All too familiar experiences of Jonathan being thrown into their cell, paranoid and silent from his recent dose of fear toxin lingers in the back of Edward’s mind as he drops the syringe, crushing it under his heel.

Struggling to lift Jonathan, Edward opens up a crate, struggling for a moment as he hisses through his teeth.

“I swear to _god_ , Jonathan, the weight of your ridiculous overcoat is just about as useful as your noose is around your neck--”

With a soft grunt, he lifts up the knocked out Crane, dumping him inside the crate  before sliding the lid back on. With the previous fight leaving Edward worse for wear, he comes to the conclusion that lifting the Scarecrow while injured was a _horrible_ idea.  Leaning against the crate, he grips his cane for dear life in attempt to remain standing, taking a few breaths.

The sounds of fighting have been silent for a minute now, nearly unnoticeable footsteps echo and creep up behind him as Edward squeezes his eyes shut.

The footsteps stop.

 

“Where’s Crane.”

 

Opening an eye, he looks towards Batman, small, strained grin on his face as he laughs.

“Oh, you just missed him. We had a _lovely_ encounter, and after he attacked me he simply ran off. Tsk, Tsk, Batman! If you weren't tardy, perhaps you could have caught him?”

“I don't believe you.”

Another laugh comes from Edward as he holds up a finger, grin growing wider. “Are you willing to take the risk then? Who knows where he shall strike next. I hope it fills you with guilt when you realize that Edward Nygma was right and you assumed not, allowing Crane to flee and wreck havoc elsewhere.”

An attempt of guilt tripping and blackmail only earns him a disgusted look from the Bat. Edward promptly decides he doesn't need a broken nose tonight, and shuts up.

Batman’s expression doesn't shift for a moment, but his gaze does, tone becoming soft for a moment.

“You’re bleeding, Edward. You need medical attention.” He states.

Scoffing, Edward rolls his eyes. “I’ll live, Detective. I need to gather a few pieces of evidence to close my case before I head out.”

“Eddie--”

“Also! Don’t you have a Scarecrow to chase? While I may have solved my own case, I believe it is your job to bring him back to Arkham. Are you slacking on your duties, Batman? What a role model for your Gothamites!”

Frowning, the Batman’s gaze shifts towards Scarecrow’s discarded scythe, the back at Eddie. Attempting to keep his composure, Eddie holds his breath, eyes meeting the Dark Knight's for a brief moment.

“Wait here. I’ll be back for you later.”

Pulling out his grappling gun, Batman fires, the wire pulling him towards the support beams as he glides out of the warehouse.

A wave of relief washes over Eddie as he slouches, taking a few breaths before leaning on his cane. Using his free hand, he pushes off the lid, struggling to lift Jonathan out of the crate and carry him towards his chemical lab set-up. Scanning the samples already laid out, Edward grabs the known antidote for Jon’s fear toxin, along with his work notes. With that in possession, he struggles to carry Crane out the door and to his car, unfortunately tossing him roughly in the front seat. He puts his hands on his hips, taking a few breaths.

“How the hell does he do this nightly?” Eddie mumbles to himself.

Having caught his breath , he goes to inspect damage done to Jonathan during the brawl. Edward frowns, staring at the eye he unfortunately jabbed earlier before directing his attention to what’s important. Readying the cure, he sprays it in Jonathan’s face and watches as he breathes it in, a wave of relief washing over Eddie as he repositions his former cellmate.

Or well, tries to.

Grumbling loudly, Ed takes a few steps back and slams the passenger side door shut, marching about to the driver's side and climbing in.

“If you get a concussion from any future reckless driving, I’m going to say you deserved every crack in your skull.” He hisses out, then takes off.

 

* * *

 

A bright light greets Jonathan as he slowly comes through, head pounding as his vision blurs. Trying to reach out next to him to find his glasses, he discovers that he’s handcuffed to the bed, puzzled look on his face as he uses his free hand to grab his glasses.

The scenery becomes clear as day in a few moments. Not quite a hospital. Not quite Arkham. It almost looks like his apartment. Odd.

His right eye is covered, as well as a few bandages and an IV in his wrist (Where the hell did someone get that from?). Looking at the side table, he spots the fear toxin antidote he made with a small post-it note on it with a simple ’1’, signifying the doses remaining in the antidote.

Next to the antidote, sits a larger note. Completely nameless,  only sign of who it is from being a simple, bright green question mark.

Head still pounding, Jonathan puts no effort towards guessing the contents of the note and quickly grabbing it, skimming over the contents.

Silently mouthing the words, he begins to smirk, calmly placing the note down.

A warning from Edward that next time he won't be as soft, and a riddle of what seems to be of no relevance.

Jonathan scoffs.

“How _pathetic_.”

* * *

 

Struggling to head down the stairs, Edward grips the railing for dear life, pain from the recent injuries burning as he finally reaches the end of the stair case. Leaning against the wall, he subtle puts a device in the corner to monitor activity in the complex before he heads out the door, fumbling with his keys.

And unfortunately, dropping them.

Grumbling under his breath, he bends over to pick them up, chills suddenly running up his back as he gets the feeling that he’s being watched.

Spinning around, he’s met with an all too familiar figure looming over him, eyes narrowed and judging.

Redeemed or not, Batman’s glare _always_ makes him nervous.

The Dark Knight remains silent, eeriness lingering for a moment longer before he speaks.

“You lied about Crane running off.”

Nervously laughing, Ed presses a finger to the other’s chest.

“And _you_ fell for it now, didn’t you? Even when I’m on your side, I still manage to out-think you --”

“I knew you were lying, Nygma.” He cuts in abruptly. “You lead me right to his apartment.”

Stumbling over his words, Edward blinks in disbelief. “I… Wh--”

“I’m going to bring Scarecrow back to Arkham. And after that--” He leans over Edward, lip twitching as a stern frown remains on his face. “-- We’re going to have a little talk.”

Disbelief and doubt remain on his face for just a moment longer before he curls his lip up, sneering and slouching over as he hisses quietly under his breath.

 

“ _Crap._ ”


End file.
